


Gloss

by Farasha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dark Victor Nikiforov, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, First Time, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Shota, Size Difference, Underage Drinking, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha
Summary: Yuri can get anything he wants, and that includes Viktor Nikiforov.





	Gloss

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. What you see is what you get. Extra details in the end notes.
> 
> De-anoned in honor of Strikethrough Anniversary 5/29.
> 
> Original prompt: https://yurionicekink.dreamwidth.org/881.html?thread=61553#cmt61553

The figure skating world thinks of Viktor Nikiforov like this: gracious, talented, skilled beyond reason, the premiere athlete in the sport. He is twenty-five years old, has won everything there is to win, and people call him a _legend_.

Yuri thinks of Viktor Nikiforov like this: massive pain in the ass, drama queen, airhead, stupidly sexy. Yuri is twelve going on thirteen, and Viktor is the first real person he's ever wanted so much it makes his guts twist.

His fantasies were never specific before Viktor. He knows he likes boys, insofar as he can stand the thought of anyone touching him at all, but it's all vague images of kissing and touching and a warm, heavy body on top of him.

That all changes at Euros that year, when Yuri steps into a bathroom to find Viktor making out with Sasha Kolesnikov, the seventeen-year-old bronze medalist from their rival sporting club in Moscow. Sasha has long hair like Viktor used to, the dark strands woven through Viktor's fingers; another imitator trying to catch up with the best. He won't. Yuri has seen Kolesnikov skate, and the only reason he made the podium at all is because Yuri himself is still in Juniors and Georgi is out with a stress fracture. Giacometti beat Kolesnikov for the silver by a mile.

Viktor is backed up against the wall with Sasha pressed against his front. Viktor has both hands on Sasha's ass, squeezing and swallowing down the breathy little moans Sasha makes with his mouth.

"Mmm," Viktor says, licking at Sasha's lower lip. "Cherry. My favorite."

Yuri's face burns as he backs out of the bathroom. He pulls the bottom of his hoodie down to cover the crotch of his pants, his hood low on his face. He isn't sure why he waits, leaning on the wall, instead of going to find another bathroom. When Sasha finally stumbles out, his lip gloss smeared, his hair tangled from Viktor pulling on it, and a dazed look in his eyes, Yuri feels a surge of vicious hatred that surprises him. Sasha notices him glaring and smirks. Yuri's eyes get narrower. He'll remember Sasha Kolesnikov for when he debuts in Seniors, and he's going to _crush_ him.

Viktor emerges a little while later, having taken the time to actually put himself back together. He notices Yuri too, amusement bright in his eyes.

"Yura," he says, teasing. "Your face is so red! Are you jealous?"

"Like I'd be jealous of a loser like that," Yuri snarls. He is jealous. He knows he's jealous. But like hell is he going to let Viktor see it.

Viktor ruffles his hair, like Yuri is a little kid. "Maybe next time, hm? See you on the plane, I have interviews."

Yuri can tell it's a joke, that Viktor isn't taking him seriously, and probably won't until Yuri debuts in Seniors and knocks him off the top of the podium.

Yuri isn't going to wait until then to have Viktor take him seriously, and he isn't going to wait to get what he wants, either.

He buys a tube of cherry lip gloss. He thinks about wearing eyeliner, because everyone always says how pretty his eyes are, but trying it out late one night only makes him look younger, like a kid who got into his mom's makeup. He sticks with the lip gloss and starts putting his hair up in a little ponytail when he practices.

Viktor doesn't seem to notice, beyond what he already notices about Yuri - that Yuri is good, good enough to be a threat one day, but isn't quite there yet. Viktor laughs when Yakov yells at Yuri for attempting quads, winking at Yuri from across the rink. 

Yuri remembers that wink for days, his hand shoved down his underwear at night, imagining Viktor saying _cherry, my favorite_ while he kisses Yuri.

At Worlds, Yuri places silver. He falls on his attempt at a quad loop, and he's more angry at himself than Yakov is with him. Missing the top of the podium by a handful of points makes him want to go break things, or get into trouble, or both.

He settles for getting into trouble, because he has a goal and he's not going to be swayed from it. He's thirteen now, not a kid anymore, and he's going to make Viktor notice that.

He doesn't so much ask Yakov's permission to go to the banquet as he does show up without it, his suit neat, his hair pulled half-up, and his lips sticky with gloss. He's gotten better at the eyeliner thing, a little hint of it making his green eyes look even bigger than they do already. He looks in the mirror and sees _pretty_ and wonders if he's also seeing _sexy_. Wonders if that's what Viktor will see.

Worlds are in America, and the servers give him impatient looks and shoo him away when he asks for champagne. He steals a glass anyway and spends the night sipping it with his eyes on Viktor, leaving lip gloss prints on the glass. His skin feels like it's buzzing with anticipation, want curling warm in his chest - or maybe that's the alcohol, which makes everything look a little too bright and a little too fuzzy. He's not drunk, he's pretty sure, but he is tipsy enough to let himself keep running into Viktor, leaning against his side and looking up at Viktor through his eyelashes. That's supposed to be seductive. He read it somewhere.

Yakov finally catches him with the champagne and pulls the mostly empty glass out of his hand. "We aren't in Russia," he growls. "Behave yourself. Viktor, take Yura back to his room."

Yuri has been puffing himself up to argue, but deflates immediately. Yakov doesn't know it, but he's just handed Yuri the opportunity he's been looking for on a silver platter. Still, he can't make it look like he's getting what he wants, or Yakov might pick someone else to take him upstairs. Someone Yuri didn't make an effort to look good for.

"Whatever," he snaps, and storms toward the door of the banquet hall. He thinks he can blame the blush on the champagne and the humiliation of being caught by Yakov, but he's less sure when Viktor puts his arm around Yuri's shoulders and tugs him close while they walk to the elevator.

"You know," Viktor says, "Yakov wasn't as bald before he started coaching you."

"He didn't have grey hair before you," Yuri shoots back, looking up at Viktor.

Viktor laughs, squeezing Yuri's shoulder, and Yuri's stomach does a flip. It's like they're coming back from a party together, Viktor joking with him, bumping together as they walk. Viktor doesn't act like someone who's been told to put a rebellious teenager to bed.

"It was a good try," he says, shaking Yuri out of his thoughts.

"What was?"

"That quad. You should have gone for the Salchow, though. You land it more often in practice."

"I land the loop!"

"Fifty-fifty," Viktor says. "Too much of a gamble for competition. Your Salchow is seventy-thirty. It's just odds." He winks at Yuri, the way he had weeks ago in practice. "Next time do the Salchow. Yakov won't be as mad at you if you land it."

" _When_ I land it," Yuri says, jaw set. He doesn't think Viktor is making fun of him, but he's never cared enough to give Yuri advice before.

"Of course," Viktor says breezily. Yuri can feel his teeth grinding together. Viktor still isn't taking him seriously.

He leans on Viktor more than he needs to as they ride the elevator up to their floor. Half a glass of champagne isn't enough to make him too drunk to walk - he's Russian - but Viktor is warm and his arm is a strong, heavy weight on Yuri's shoulders. Yuri will pretend to be falling over if it means they'll keep touching.

They get to the room and Yuri yawns for effect, leaning his head against Viktor's chest. Viktor laughs, his voice a low rumble under Yuri's ear.

"Come on, Yura. Where's your room key?"

"Pocket," Yuri says, and doesn't move to get it out. His heart starts beating faster when Viktor's hand slips into his pocket, so close to touching him Yuri's skin breaks out in goosebumps.

Viktor swipes them into the room. "Let's get you to bed."

Yuri lets the door shut behind him before he drops the act, grabbing Viktor by the lapels of his suit and yanking him down, standing on tip-toe to smash their mouths together.

Viktor inhales through his nose, a startled reaction that just makes Yuri press closer. He grips Viktor's suit jacket so hard he can feel his fingers cramping and kisses, clumsy but forceful, until Viktor licks at his lip.

Yuri breaks away to breathe, his lungs feeling tight, and stares up at Viktor.

"Only if you come with me," he says, trying his best for sultry. He thinks it comes out more demanding, which is fine. He knows what he wants.

Viktor is silent for enough time that Yuri starts to think he's going to walk away. He shifts closer, one of Viktor's knees going between his thighs, and presses his whole body against Viktor's front. Then Viktor's tongue comes out to lick his lip, his mouth curving in a smile.

"Cherry. You were listening."

"I'm better than stupid Kolesnikov," Yuri says, all challenge.

Viktor runs his thumb along one of Yuri's cheekbones. "Then this was for me?" he asks, meaning the eyeliner.

"I want you," Yuri says.

Viktor doesn't even hesitate. One of his hands slips around the small of Yuri's back, and the other pulls at Yuri's hair tie, letting his hair loose to fall around his chin. He leans down and kisses Yuri, sucking the taste of the cherry lip gloss off his mouth. 

Viktor is so much taller than him, he has to pull Yuri up even further on his toes. It means he has to straddle Viktor's thigh, hard muscle tight between his legs. It presses on his dick and Yuri lets out a little wavering moan that gets swallowed up in Viktor's mouth.

Yuri feels shivery and hot, flushing down to his throat. Viktor's tongue slips into his mouth and he feels dizzy. It's even better than he thought it would be. He feels like Viktor is surrounding him; one hand spans the breadth of Yuri's back, and his other hand is tight on the back of Yuri's neck. He's grinding on Viktor's thigh before he really knows what he's doing. He almost stops, but decides that would be like backing down, so he does it deliberately, rolling his whole body against Viktor's like he's trying to crawl inside Viktor's skin.

Viktor stops kissing him and Yuri gasps, feeling like he can finally draw air again. His eyes are closed, so he opens them. Viktor's face is so close, his lips wet with Yuri's lip gloss and those blue eyes watching him with no more amusement left in them. Now he just looks hungry. It makes Yuri feel like he can't breathe in the best way.

"What do you want?" Viktor murmurs. He licks the taste of Yuri off his lips again, and Yuri swallows back a pathetic little noise.

"Everything," he says, putting all the bravado he can into it. "Whatever you give everyone else who tries to fuck you because they think it'll make them into you."

"Is that what you're doing?" Viktor asks, a little of that amusement creeping back into his voice.

Yuri yanks him down by the lapels and bites his lip, hard enough that Viktor pulls his hair trying to pry him off.

"No," Yuri says, fierce, and fights the grip on his hair so he can bite Viktor's lip again for good measure. "I don't need to be you. I'm better."

"Brat," Viktor says into his mouth. "If that's what you want, this will need to come off."

He slides his hand up under the back of Yuri's suit jacket and pulls his shirt free from his pants. Then his hand is on Yuri's skin, hot like a brand. His fingertips slide below the waistband of Yuri's slacks.

Yuri finally pries his hands loose from Viktor's lapels, tugging on the sleeves of his jacket until it slides off his shoulders and puddles on the floor. He imagines for a second that Viktor might scold him for that, but he doesn't. He kisses Yuri and holds him close with the hand on his back. Yuri's hands go to the buttons of his shirt, clumsy and fumbling. He tries to undo one for the fourth time and makes a petulant, frustrated sound that makes him blush harder.

"Let me," Viktor says. He lets go of Yuri's hair, the steadying hand staying on the small of his back. His fingers are deft on Yuri's buttons, teasing open Yuri's shirt to expose pale skin, colored pink by Yuri's blush. 

Yuri flushes darker while Viktor looks, his fingertips skimming over Yuri's chest. He catches one of Yuri's nipples and pinches, making Yuri squirm and suck his lip between his teeth. He can taste cherry lip gloss and champagne, and he imagines the latter is from Viktor's mouth. Viktor lets go and moves his fingers to the other, this time giving it a little twist that draws a noise from Yuri's throat.

"You're going too slow, old man," Yuri says - more of a gasp, his face flushed so red he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His nipples ache, and that makes him even harder than he already is. He wants to feel Viktor all over him when he wakes up tomorrow, so he can be sure this really happened. That they did this.

He doesn't expect to be flipped around and pinned against the wall. His breath huffs out of his chest. Viktor unbuckles Yuri's belt and unzips his pants, yanking them down Yuri's thighs before he grabs under Yuri's knees and lifts. Yuri slides up the wall easily, clutching at Viktor's shoulders for balance.

"You're so impatient," Viktor says. He goes down to his knees, and Yuri's chest seizes tight. He wants so much it feels like he's burning up. Viktor props Yuri's knees up on his shoulders, putting his face level with Yuri's underwear and the hard line of his cock. "I thought you wanted me to do everything to you."

"Do that," Yuri manages. His shoulders are pressed against the wall, one of his hands fisted in Viktor's hair. The thrill of being above him burns hot in Yuri's stomach.

"Do what?" Viktor asks, fluttering silver lashes like he's being coy. He leans forward and blows a puff of hot air over Yuri's dick before sucking at the damp fabric over the tip.

"Oh fuck, _fuck_."

"You can have that later, Yura." Viktor smiles like he's stolen something, secretive and sharp. "Tell me what you want _now_."

Yuri stares down at him as he mouths the line of Yuri's cock through his underwear. It makes every part of Yuri's body throb from the beat of his blood in his ears to the tips of his toes. Viktor is going to make him say it. He's never said anything like this to anyone, not even joking around with the other guys in Juniors.

"Put it in your mouth already," he says, his tongue nearly tripping over it, and bites his lip again as soon as he's done it. He's running on bravado and lust right now, and Viktor seems to know it.

Viktor's hands slide up his thighs to his ass, catching the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down. Yuri's cock pops free, wet at the tip and pink all over. Viktor palms Yuri's ass with both hands, holding Yuri in place. He licks, a filthy tease from Yuri's balls to the tip of his cock, and waits for Yuri to take a breath to curse him before he sucks Yuri's cock into his mouth. And down his throat. In one go.

The breath leaves Yuri in a curse that trails off into an incoherent sound. He digs his heels into Viktor's back, his shoulders pressed hard against the wall as his back arches. Viktor's mouth is hot, slick and wet, his throat tight around the head of Yuri's cock. It's so much better than Yuri's hand, he can't even stand it.

Viktor isn't playing fair either. He sucks hard, swallowing and making his throat constrict. His hands knead at the muscle of Yuri's ass, fingers flirting between his cheeks. Yuri manages to make his eyes open instead of rolling back in his head and looks down. Viktor's lips are pink around his cock and his eyes are so hot as he looks up at Yuri, somehow managing to be smug even on his knees.

Yuri uses the leverage of the wall and his knees on Viktor's shoulders to thrust clumsily, spitefully hoping Viktor chokes. Instead, his cock seems to just slide into Viktor's throat like Viktor is devouring him. Viktor's fingers squeeze on Yuri's ass tight enough to bruise, then creep further in, spreading him open until fingertips brush against his hole.

Yuri has never touched himself there. He knows how it works in theory, but he hasn't gotten up the courage. The light brush of Viktor's fingers makes him come immediately, choked-off sounds trapped between his clenched teeth, heels drumming on Viktor's back, writhing against the wall as he comes until he feels like he's going to go blind.

Viktor keeps sucking as Yuri goes soft. It hurts after a couple seconds, like the painful tug of a sore muscle only in his balls. Yuri yanks at Viktor's hair and spits unflattering language at him until Viktor pulls off with a wet noise, laughing. He turns to bite at Yuri's thigh.

"So much for your 'everything,'" he says. Yuri wants to sink his teeth in Viktor's lip until it bleeds and mess up that perfect face.

"Fuck you, I can go again," he says, still a little shaky. He feels it in his knees the worst, and in the tremors in his thighs where they're thrown over Viktor's shoulders. He wonders if Viktor can feel him shaking and hates the idea.

"Greedy _and_ pushy," Viktor says. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Fuck me," Yuri demands, saying it before he can second guess.

Viktor lets Yuri's knees fall down to his elbows, picking him up like he weighs nothing. Yuri grabs for him, arms wrapped around Victor's neck, clinging as Viktor carries him to the bed.

Yuri's breath whooshes out of him when his back hits the mattress. His pants are gone before he can blink. He's naked, laid out on his hotel room bed. He feels suddenly, guiltily grateful that Georgi hadn't recovered enough to make Worlds. Yuri would be rooming with him, but instead he has it to himself.

Viktor crawls on top of him, nudging Yuri's knees apart so he can fit between them. Yuri's thighs spread wide to let him, and his chest flutters with something like nervousness. He hopes it doesn't show on his face.

He yanks Viktor down by the tie, kissing him. Viktor laughs into his mouth and starts to struggle out of his clothes, pausing between layers to kiss Yuri again. He tastes like Yuri's come, which makes Yuri start to get hard again. He's made himself come three times in one night before, he wasn't making it up when he said he could go again.

Yuri has to look when Viktor is naked. He's snuck glances at Viktor in the shower before, eyes roaming over as much of his pale skin as he can before he has to look away. This is the first time he's been able to look as long as he wants. The first time he's been able to touch.

His fingers settle tentatively on Viktor's chest. Viktor makes no move to stop him, so Yuri keeps going, trailing them over the defined lines of Viktor's body. He's in incredible shape, sharp lines of lean muscle standing out beneath his skin. Yuri runs the palm of his hand over Viktor's stomach and stops, hesitant for the first time all night.

Viktor is big. At least, Yuri thinks he is. It's the first cock Yuri has seen in person besides his own, and having Viktor next to him makes it obvious he's not done growing. Yuri takes a breath and touches, his fingers on Viktor's cock, feeling the differences. He's just as velvety smooth as Yuri is, the foreskin sliding easily in his grip. It's just that Yuri's fingers can't wrap as far around as he can with his own.

"That's never going to fit," he says suddenly, and glares when Viktor laughs.

"Sure it will. You'll just have to be patient. I know you're bad at it, but I think you might kill me in my sleep if I hurt you." Viktor retrieved the pants he'd tossed aside and dug a tube of something out of the pocket.

"You carry it with you?" Yuri scoffs. "You're kind of a slut, huh?"

Viktor smacks the inside of his thigh, loud enough to make him jump but not hard enough to really sting.

"Keep being a brat and I'll put you over my knee," Viktor says, and Yuri swallows. He doesn't know how to feel about that, and settles on ignoring it. Viktor makes ignoring it easy when he grabs Yuri's dick, his hand slick with lube, and starts to stroke.

Yuri lets his head fall back on the pillow and has to fight not to close his eyes at how good it feels. He wants to see it when this happens, not just feel it. He wants to see the look on Viktor's face.

Right now it's concentration, as he cups Yuri's balls, rolling them in his hand for a second and then moving his hand lower. His fingertips slide over Yuri's hole, making him lose all his breath again. It's so sensitive, and Yuri can't even believe how much he wants this.

Yuri pushes back against Viktor's hand. "Come on, I know how this works."

Viktor looks up at him with that shitty fake smile he gets when he's provoking people. 

"Do you?" he asks, and before Yuri can spit a reply he's been flipped on his front, Viktor's hands on the cheeks of his ass, spreading him open.

"What are you-" Yuri starts, but the strangled noise that comes out of him next can't even remotely be counted as a word. Viktor is _licking_ him, his tongue wet and hot against Yuri's asshole. Yuri goes red from the roots of his hair all down his chest, burying his face in his arms to try to hold in some of the high, squeaking sounds he's making. This isn't something he thought about, wasn't even something he knew about, and for the first time tonight Yuri thinks maybe he's in over his head.

He's so wet from Viktor's mouth that a finger slides in him easy. Viktor doesn't stop licking, his tongue wiggling against his finger like he's trying to put that inside, too. Yuri can't even think. He's short-circuited, doesn't even notice he's grinding against the bedspread and pushing back against Viktor's mouth until he comes all over himself and the bed.

Viktor finally lets up with his tongue once he's got two fingers inside Yuri. He goes so agonizingly slow Yuri feels like he could crawl out of his skin. Every once in awhile he presses right against something inside that feels like he's trying to stroke Yuri's cock from the back. The first time he does it, Yuri yells into the pillow. It's so good and too much at the same time and Yuri doesn't even know what to do with it.

"This would probably feel better if you hadn't already come twice," Viktor says, conversational. Yuri hates that he sounds like he isn't affected by this at all.

"Your fault," he manages, writhing against the bed as Viktor rubs on that spot like he's trying to make Yuri come again. It just makes him shake, a tremble in his thighs that he desperately tries to control.

"We could stop," Viktor says. "I don't know if you can take it."

Yuri thinks he has to be doing that on purpose but he can't help but rise to the bait.  
"I can fucking take it," he snaps. He gets his knees under him and sits up, resting back on his heels. It drives Viktor's fingers in deeper and he bites his lip on another moan.

"Turn over," Viktor says, pulling his hand away. Yuri doesn't know whether to be relieved or not. He turns onto his back, trying not to be too obvious about bracing himself as Viktor gets his cock slick and pulls Yuri toward him by the hips.

Yuri expects him to just push in, but instead Viktor slides a hand under Yuri's shoulders and sits him up, straddling Viktor's thighs. His other hand steadies his cock, the blunt head pressing between Yuri's cheeks, slipping in lube.

"Just the tip to start," Viktor says. His voice is so low that Yuri shivers. For the first time in a very long time, he isn't sure if he can do something. Viktor feels even bigger pushed up against him like this.

Yuri doesn't back down, though. He pushes through, just like he always does, and lets his weight sink down on trembling thighs.

He does stop once Viktor breaches him, because it fucking _burns_.

"You shithead," he gasps.

"You want it," Viktor says. The hand that was steadying his dick grabs a handful of Yuri's ass, spreading him open so that another little bit of Viktor slides inside of him.

"Ow, you fucker." Yuri tips his head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe.

"You were the one who said you could take it," Viktor reminds him, like an asshole. Yuri can fucking take it. He's just taking his time.

After a few long breaths of the first couple inches of Viktor in him, the burn subsides enough that Yuri feels okay taking a little more. Then it hurts all over again and he stops, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Poor little Yura," Viktor says. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

Yuri's eyes fly open and he smacks his hand over Viktor's mouth, glaring.

"Don't you dare kiss me with that mouth, I know where it's been." Yuri grits his teeth and tries to relax. His knees shake from the effort of holding himself up and Viktor isn't helping. He's moved his other hand to Yuri's ass too, squeezing it and making Yuri tremble even harder.

He has to get it over with or this is going to take all night, and at some point someone will come to check on him. It's the thought of getting caught like this that makes Yuri sink down, clenching his jaw so hard it feels like his teeth are going to crack. Viktor's dick goes on forever, and Yuri is sure it must be up in his stomach by the time his ass rests on Viktor's thighs.

"That's good," Viktor says, his voice rough. "Fuck, you're so tight."

"Shut up," Yuri hisses. He tries to flex his thighs, but his muscles feel watery. It's too much. He aches, feels pried open too far, and he's not sure if he can even get off like this. But he's not as much of an asshole as Viktor, and Viktor has gotten him off twice. It's only fair.

He doesn't need to ride after all. Viktor lifts him by the grip on his ass and lets him fall back down. It punches a strangled moan from Yuri's chest that turns into a high, embarrassing whimper at the end when Viktor rocks his hips up. He's being fucked. Viktor is fucking him.

Viktor doesn't try to kiss him on the mouth again, but he does kiss and bite at Yuri's neck as he moves Yuri up and down on his cock. He doesn't do it hard, not enough to leave a mark, which Yuri guesses he should be grateful for. He wants it, though. He wishes everyone could know he seduced Viktor into his bed when he wasn't even in Seniors yet. He's better than all of the others, the ones that think some of Viktor's greatness will rub off on them by way of Viktor's dick. Yuri doesn't need Viktor's greatness. He has his own. He can get anything he wants, and this just proves it.

"Yura," Viktor says into his neck, a groan that sets all of Yuri's nerves off at the same time. Somehow Yuri has gotten hard again, between the touch of Viktor's mouth on him and the huge, burning slide of Viktor's cock in his ass. He doesn't think he can make himself let go of Viktor to touch himself but he doesn't think it will even matter. He's so full and Viktor just keeps going, fucking Yuri like he _knows_ Yuri can take it, like he's letting Yuri call the shots because Yuri _can_.

Viktor's rhythm starts to stutter. His fingers tighten on Yuri's ass and he spreads Yuri open even more, until Yuri can feel the soft skin of his balls every time he pushes in deep. He's saying things that run over Yuri's ears like a rush of water, none of it sticking in his head. It doesn't matter. It's devastating and the best fucking thing Yuri has ever done, and when Viktor finally, _finally_ comes, Yuri swears he can feel it, warm and filthy inside him. His own dick twitches, and he writhes in Viktor's lap, finally managing to untangle his own fingers and touch himself. It takes barely a stroke before he's coming too, his cock only managing a weak dribble.

Viktor stays inside him until he goes soft, holding Yuri against his chest and stroking a hand over Yuri's spine. It feels almost better than the sex, being the utter center of Viktor's attention. Yuri feels like he could drift off like this, except his chest is still a tangle of adrenaline and disbelief. He's never felt like this except when he's standing at the top of the podium. Apparently fucking Viktor is just as good as winning.

It's gross when they finally separate. Yuri feels between his legs and his fingers come away sticky.

"Ew," he says, and wipes them on Viktor's thigh.

Viktor makes a disgusted noise and rolls off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom with the sound of running water. A couple seconds later, a washcloth hits Yuri in the face with a wet smack.

"Asshole!" Yuri yells, and just out of spite, throws the sticky, come-covered washcloth back at him when he emerges. He's a little disappointed when Viktor catches it and tosses it into the bathtub in one fluid motion.

"Your pillow talk could be better," Viktor says. He pulls his suit back on, rumpled but still presentable. Yuri's chest feels weird, like there's a stone sinking in it.

"Do you run off and leave all the virgins you fuck?" he asks, trying to make it sound scathing.

Viktor just gives him the look he does when Yuri is trying his patience and throws Yuri's underwear at him. "I can't sleep in here naked, Yura. But I can tell Yakov I stayed with you while you slept it off."

"Oh," Yuri says, feeling like an idiot. He doesn't like the way it feels. He doesn't usually like touching people, but he can't stand the thought of Viktor leaving right now. "Fine. But you sleep here, not in the fucking chair."

"My back is too valuable to spend the night sleeping in chairs," Viktor says. He pulls the blankets out from under Yuri and flips them so that the wet spot Yuri left is toward the foot. Then he turns the lights out and climbs in beside him.

Yuri grabs one of Viktor's arms and pulls it around his waist. He's never going to admit how good Viktor feels against him, warm and big enough to wrap Yuri up in a tangle of his limbs.

"Congratulations on the silver, Yura," Viktor says into his ear, just as Yuri is drifting off to sleep, sore between his legs but triumphant in his victory.

He throws a sharp, bony elbow into Viktor's ribs and slips off to sleep with the sound of Viktor calling him a brat in his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is thirteen at the time of the sex scene and initiates all sexual contact. He drinks half a glass of champagne at the banquet but is not drunk. Viktor does not stop him or try to talk him out of it. Penetration is slightly painful.


End file.
